"Welcome, Rudra and Amanda. I have awaited your arrival for countless ages. At last, you stand before me," said the figure who emerged in the temple's heart, his voice resonating like the echo of creation itself.
The silence of the hidden temple shattered as the air itself seemed to ripple. I blinked, convinced my mind was deceiving me. Before us stood a figure—radiant, impossible. My rational mind screamed illusion, a fever dream born of exhaustion and the oppressive atmosphere.
Amanda and I exchanged a glance. Neither of us understood who this being was. His sapphire skin glowed with celestial light, his crown shimmered with jewels that pulsed like stars, and in his four hands he bore a conch, a discus, a mace, and a lotus. Yet to us, these were symbols without meaning. We had never been taught of deities. We had lived believing only vaguely that someone might watch over the world, but never knowing who, never naming them. For me, even that belief was too much—I had always rejected it.
The figure smiled gently, as though he could read our confusion. His voice rolled like thunder wrapped in calm:
"I am Vishnu, the Eternal Preserver, the Guardian of Harmony, the Balance that holds the cosmos together. When chaos rises, I descend. When darkness spreads, I shine. And now, I stand before you."
Amanda's eyes widened. She fumbled in her satchel and pulled out the parchment the headmaster had given us. On it was an ancient depiction of a god with sapphire skin, four arms, and the same symbols. She held it up, trembling, and compared it to the figure before us.
Her knees buckled. She fell to the ground, pressing her forehead against the cold stone floor. "Forgive me," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I did not know… I did not understand…"
I stood rigid. My chest tightened, but my feet refused to move. To kneel would mean admitting that everything I had denied all my life was true—that mana was real, that gods were real, that I had been broken all along.
Amanda's reverence filled the air, but my defiance held me upright. I stared at Vishnu, at the impossible serenity radiating from him. My mind screamed illusion, but my heart whispered something else: perhaps even the broken are seen by gods. And that whisper terrified me more than any bullying ever had.
Then Vishnu spoke again, his words carrying the weight of eternity:
"Rudra, you deny me because you believe mana defines worth. You have suffered, mocked for what you lack. But absence is not emptiness—it is potential. The void within you is not weakness, but the womb of strength yet unseen. Know this: even the hollow reed can carry the sound of creation. Even the barren soil can birth forests when touched by light."
I swallowed hard. "If mana is the measure of this world, then what am I? A shadow? A mistake?"
Vishnu's gaze deepened, and his voice was like a river flowing through stone:
"You are neither shadow nor mistake. Mana is but one thread in the tapestry of existence. Doubt, resilience, and the courage to stand when others kneel—these too are powers. You have carried disbelief like a weapon, forged in fire. That is your strength. And strength born from emptiness is often greater than strength born from abundance. Remember, Rudra: the stars shine brightest against the void."
Amanda's voice trembled. "Do you see, Rudra? He does not condemn you. He honors your struggle. Your disbelief is not a flaw—it is part of your path."
For the first time, my defiance faltered. Vishnu's words did not demand belief; they acknowledged it. He did not ask me to bow, only to listen. And in that listening, something shifted—like a crack in the armor I had worn all my life.
I still did not believe. Not fully. But perhaps belief was not the point. Perhaps being seen, even in doubt, was enough.
Vishnu's gaze turned vast, his voice rolling like distant thunder across eternity:
"Hear me now. Mana was given to humanity not for vanity, but for survival. In ages yet to come, a demon shall rise—his strength equal to one I faced long ago. If he is not stopped, the heavens will tremble, the earth will burn, and humanity will vanish like smoke in the wind. He has already clouded your minds, stolen your memories, and tampered with history. That is why you do not remember us. You know only a vague presence you call 'god,' but you have forgotten your guardians."
Amanda and I stood in stunned silence, shaken by the revelation of such a threat.
Vishnu continued, his words flowing like scripture:
"Mana was given to humans to defend against demons. Yet your kind, in its ingenuity, used it to build society, to shape progress. All mana flows from the World Tree—the eternal pillar you saw outside. Its roots drink from the cosmic ocean, its branches touch the stars. That is the source of your strength."
His eyes glowed brighter.
"This is why I summoned your group. All of you, except Rudra, will receive manuals crafted by my hand, so that you may strengthen yourselves. When the time comes, you must stand as strong as Rudra."
Amanda dared to ask, "Why nothing for Rudra?"
Vishnu's voice was firm, yet compassionate:
"All questions will be answered in time. Do not seek what is not yet yours to know."
With a snap of his fingers, Amanda vanished. He turned to me, stepping forward until he stood directly before me.
"Rudra, how are you?"
"Fine… How are you?" I asked awkwardly.
His smile was serene.
"I am eternal. I am well. And it pleases me to see you finally looking at me, speaking to me."
I nodded, and he continued:
"You were never blessed with mana, nor given a manual, because they are of no use to you. You are destined for far greater power. You are the one who will inherit my strength, so that you may defeat the demon. You must first harden your body, for if I were to grant my full power at once, your mortal frame would shatter. Slowly, you will grow into it, until you are ready to bear the weight of divinity."
I hesitated, then asked, "Why me? There are many stronger than I."
His voice was vast, echoing like the ocean:
"All questions will be answered one day. Until then, your duty is to work as hard as possible. Destiny does not choose the strongest—it chooses the one who endures."
Silence stretched between us until I finally spoke again. "Why was my past erased? What about my parents?"
"Your memories were stolen by the very demon we prepare to face. As for your parents, that lies beyond my reach. I cannot tamper with the lines of reality. Their fate is hidden from me, for now."
"Are they alive or dead?" I asked.
He remained silent, then said softly,
"I cannot tell you now. In time, all veils shall lift."
He beckoned me closer. I stepped forward, and for the first time I saw him clearly. No mortal beauty could compare.
"Our time ends. I will grant you my power now."
He placed his hands upon me and spoke words in a holy tongue. A white light poured from his palms, enveloping me. When it faded, he smiled.
"Now my power flows within you. To ensure you do not wield it recklessly, I have shaped it so you may understand it step by step. Remember, Rudra: never lose hope. I am watching over you. You have companions of great worth—keep them close, for they are your strength as much as mine."
With a final snap of his fingers, the world dissolved into silence. It was the last thing I remembered.